Sunlight streamed down, merging the shadows of the two figures into one.
In the distance, the Thirty-Six Peaks gradually grew clearer in the morning light.
A new day had begun.
Starting from that day, the two of them adjusted their cultivation rhythm.
Every morning, they would go to Tingsong Cliff together—Zheng Xuanling practiced his swordsmanship, while Lin Tingwan sorted out her spiritual power. Before noon, they each busied themselves with their own tasks. In the afternoon, they deliberately slowed down the pace, either flipping through texts in the Scripture Pavilion or sparring and exchanging ideas with fellow disciples, no longer fixated on advancing their cultivation.
At dusk, they returned to Yunmiao Peak, sitting side by side by the spiritual spring, watching the setting sun, listening to the rustle of the bamboo grove, letting their hearts settle completely.
Days passed one after another.
Three months later, Lin Tingwan finally fully tamed the restless spiritual power within her body. When she practiced formations again, the previously sluggish connections between runes became smooth and effortless.
Zheng Xuanling had also regained his former composure. His thunder techniques were still fierce, but now carried a sense of handling heavy matters with ease, clearly indicating his control over spiritual power had reached a new level.
But Lin Tingwan gradually noticed that Zheng Xuanling had been acting a bit off lately.
At first, she thought he was just in high spirits because his cultivation had advanced, so he was more talkative than usual.
But she soon realized things weren't that simple.
One morning, as usual, she got up early to tend to the spiritual plants in the medicinal fields. She had just crouched down when she heard footsteps behind her.
"Why are you up too?" she asked without turning around. "Aren't you supposed to go cultivate at the Thunder Hall today?"
There was a moment of silence before Zheng Xuanling's voice came from behind: "...No rush."
Lin Tingwan turned around and saw him standing in the morning light, his moon-white robe slightly disheveled, clearly thrown on in a hurry. He was looking at her with an expression that... Lin Tingwan thought for a while before finding the right word—clingy.
"Xuanling?" She stood up. "What's wrong?"
Zheng Xuanling shook his head. "Nothing. I just wanted to... keep you company."
Lin Tingwan paused, then chuckled. "I'm just in the medicinal fields. It's not like I'm going to run off."
Zheng Xuanling said nothing, just took a few steps closer and stood by her side.
Lin Tingwan looked at him, a vague unease stirring in her heart. But she didn't press him, simply crouched down again to tend to the spiritual plants.
Zheng Xuanling stood there, motionless, like a tree that had suddenly sprouted at the edge of the medicinal fields.
Half an hour later, Lin Tingwan straightened up and saw he was still there.
"...Aren't you going to Thunder Hall?"
Zheng Xuanling was silent for a moment, then said, "I'll go in the afternoon."
Lin Tingwan glanced at the sky—it was barely the hour of Chen now, with several hours still to go before afternoon.
She opened her mouth, but finally just sighed. "Do as you please."
Over the next few days, Zheng Xuanling's clinginess only intensified.
When Lin Tingwan went to the Scripture Pavilion, he followed behind her; when she went to the Formation Hall, he waited outside the door; when she sparred in formations with Feng Wu, he stood far off watching, and he stayed for a full hour, making Feng Wu so uncomfortable that she excused herself early.
"Junior Sister Lin," Feng Wu whispered before leaving, "does Martial Uncle Xuanling... have that much free time lately?"
Lin Tingwan was speechless.
The nighttime was even more exaggerated. Before, though they shared the same courtyard, each had their own Quiet Chamber.
But now, Zheng Xuanling kept finding all sorts of excuses to slip into her room—
"Tingwan, I couldn't find that text in my place, so I came to read here for a bit."
"Tingwan, my room is too cold; yours is warmer."
"Tingwan, I..."
Lin Tingwan finally couldn't hold it in anymore. She put down the jade slip in her hand and looked at him seriously.
"Xuanling, what is really going on with you?"
Zheng Xuanling fell silent.
Moonlight streamed in through the window lattice, illuminating his face. Lin Tingwan then noticed a wisp of extremely faint black mist drifting in his eyes, like the birth of a heart demon.
"You—?" she asked.
Zheng Xuanling didn't answer. Instead, he said in a low voice, "Tingwan, I... I want to see you all the time. I don't want you to ever leave my sight."
She recalled how he had been following her everywhere lately, never more than a step away. At first, she had thought it was just a whim, but now it was clear there was a reason.
"What happened?" she asked softly, reaching out to take his hand.
Zheng Xuanling's hand was very cold—unnaturally so for this early summer night.
He was silent for a long time before finally speaking.
"I had a dream."
"A dream?"
"Mm." He lowered his eyes. "I dreamed of the Moonlight Immortal Palace."
Lin Tingwan was slightly startled. The Moonlight Immortal Palace—the place whose phantom had appeared during his destined trial, the legendary dojo of the Moonlight Venerable.
"What did you dream about?"
Zheng Xuanling's hand tightened slightly.
"The Immortal Palace was vast, and very cold," he said slowly. "White mist was everywhere. I couldn't reach the end. I couldn't hear any sound. I couldn't see any living thing. There were only rows upon rows of empty palaces and tightly shut doors."
Lin Tingwan listened quietly, holding his hand tighter.
"I walked for a very, very long time, until I finally reached the deepest palace," Zheng Xuanling's voice grew lower. "There was a person there... a phantom sitting cross-legged on a Meditation Cushion. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I..."
He stopped, unable to continue.
"But you what?" Lin Tingwan asked softly.
Zheng Xuanling looked up at her, and in those eyes, usually so cold and clear, there was now a hint of bewilderment and fear.
"I'm afraid of him," he said. "I don't know why, but I'm just afraid."
Lin Tingwan's heart trembled.
In all the years she had known Zheng Xuanling, she had never seen him afraid of anything.
He was the bright moon, the pure breeze, the noble gentleman.
But now, he was saying he was afraid of a phantom in a dream.
"It's just a dream," she said softly. "Dreams aren't real."
Zheng Xuanling shook his head. "I know it's a dream, but that feeling... it's too real. Every time I wake up from it, my heart pounds so hard, and I always feel..."
He paused, looking into her eyes.
"...I always feel that I will lose you."
Lin Tingwan was stunned.
Zheng Xuanling continued, "I know it sounds ridiculous. You're right here, safe and sound. How could I lose you? But that feeling is too strong, so strong that I... can't bear to leave your side for even a moment."
He finished speaking and lowered his head, like a child who had done something wrong.
Lin Tingwan looked at him like this, a complex mix of emotions rising in her heart.
She suddenly remembered the spirit dog that Lu Ren kept—every time Lu Ren left, the dog would lie by the door waiting, all day long, staring in the direction its owner had gone.
The Zheng Xuanling before her now looked a bit like that dog.
Lin Tingwan couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Zheng Xuanling looked up, a trace of grievance in his eyes. "What are you laughing at?"
Lin Tingwan shook her head with a smile. "Nothing."
She reached out and gently stroked his face. His skin was cold, so she warmed it with her palm.
"Xuanling," she said softly. "I'm not going to leave you."
Zheng Xuanling looked at her, and his eyes gradually began to brighten.
"Really?"
"Really," Lin Tingwan said. "We're dao partners. We made a dao-heart oath. We'll stick together through life and death, through good times and bad. Unless I die, I will never leave you."
Zheng Xuanling frowned slightly. "Don't say that word."
Lin Tingwan laughed. "Alright, I won't."
She paused, then added, "As for that dream... I don't know what it foretells either. But no matter what it foretells, I will be by your side."
Zheng Xuanling was silent for a moment. Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled her tightly into his arms.
"Tingwan," he whispered in her ear. "I think I'm getting more and more unable to let you go."
Lin Tingwan leaned against his chest, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.
"Then don't."
The two of them held each other for a long time, the moonlight falling softly around them, gentle as water.
After a long while, Zheng Xuanling finally let her go.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I've been too clingy these past few days."
Lin Tingwan looked at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know you're clingy?"
Zheng Xuanling's earlobes flushed red.
Lin Tingwan couldn't help but laugh again, reaching up to ruffle the top of his head—just like she would pet a big dog.
"It's okay," she said. "A little clinginess is actually kind of cute."
Zheng Xuanling's earlobes turned even redder.
Outside the window, the night wind blew through the bamboo grove, rustling softly.
Inside the room, the two sat side by side, talking about this and that, their conversation meandering.
They didn't discuss Zheng Xuanling's dream again. Lin Tingwan knew this wasn't something that could be rushed; she could only wait for him to figure it out slowly... or wait for the dream itself to reveal the answer.
But she knew one thing—no matter what lay ahead, she would be with him.